


just you and me

by laurelsalexis



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Episode Tag, Eventual Smut, M/M, POV Alternating, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurelsalexis/pseuds/laurelsalexis
Summary: five drinks that felt like something + one drink that actually was something.





	just you and me

**Author's Note:**

> First Barisi fic so please be gentle on me I am always internally screaming about how Sonny comes across. 
> 
> Alternatively titled: Sonny & Rafael help each other through some difficult times, while vaguely sticking to me theme so it doesn't seem like a ton of random one shots chunked together. 
> 
> The title came from a song like all my fics do but...I can't remember the title as I planned to write this forever ago, but life + 19x13 anxieties made me useless. ANYWAY, going to try and update this regularly so it doesn't get stuck in fic limbo + I have a thousand other ideas I want to do.
> 
> Each one deals with events from a specific episode and we're starting off with 17x18, Unholiest Alliance.

 

but you, lord, do not be far from me. you are my strength; come quickly to help me.

**Psalm 22:19**

* * *

 

Rafael knows where exactly Sonny disappeared to. It’s how he ends up outside of the church, _pacing_ , wondering if he wants to go in at all. Any good Catholic would be in there and that’s exactly the what the detective is - a good Catholic. Much better than Rafael himself. Someone who does not go to mass on a regular basis. His relationship with the Catholic church is one that is complicated and he can only respect that Sonny doesn’t. Or at the very least he’s able to overcome it.

Religion isn’t usually on their list of conversation topics.

It’s rarely on topic of conversation with anyone. He was raised Catholic, went to school, even went to church regularly. His time at Harvard was the much needed break, to make him be someone else, allow him to find what he desired, not what any Father did. Easier than to overcome demons that were below the surface, the ones that made him question everything, question himself. To not feel as if he did nothing but sin, to feel as if he can be someone whole, someone who is not going to burn in the deepest pits of Hell because of an attraction towards both men and women.

Sometimes he wonders if such revelations would have been far easier had he not been so deeply invested in the church as a child. Perhaps it was his father that really had made him question himself with such fear that even something as simple as writing it down in a journal terrified him so deeply that he crossed it out in black permanent marker the second he did.

So much of himself is shaped by the Catholic church and his father. Sometimes the wires get crossed and he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of it. Things that weigh him down as he continues to pace, desperately searches for answers he will not come across in the darkness of the cool night with the moon lighting the street more than the lightposts do.

Eventually he does manage to stop in front of the large doors, reaching out by falling short of clasping his hand around the handle. As if touching will make his hand burn by Christ himself. A touch dramatic but given he’s a man of a certain sin he does not think it is that much of a stretch.

The church has never looked positively on his kind.

He’s coming to terms with it.

His pacing resumes as his hand finds the pocket of his trousers. He’s being ridiculous and he should just go _inside_. His father is on his mind, speaking words in Spanish that bring back stains from his childhood, telling him to stop being a coward. Nothing less he likes being haunted by than the ghost of someone dead so long, someone who never found himself to be a very good father anyway. Father for he doesn’t deserve anything more affectionate than that. He’s left enough marks behind.

Only, Rafael knows that none of this is about him and his personal feelings.

It’s about Sonny.

Sonny who should at least have someone to talk to, someone who understands, someone who can be there and listen. It’s what he did earlier but he knows more than anyone what being a Catholic is like. The case hadn’t been easy on him, someone who pulled away bit by bit from the church, for someone like Sonny, so full of hope and belief, it had to be even less easy.

Those are the thoughts that give him the push to actually reach for the handle on the wooden door. Only, as he does the door itself opens, causing him to take a step back, nearly losing his balance on the cement steps at the same time.

“Woah, Cousnelor.” Sonny says, a surprise on his face, reaching out to make it so he doesn’t fall, gripping at his arm to keep him steady.

“Detective.” He greets in return, doing his best to make it seem as if he is equally surprised to see him there. Once steady his arm becomes his own again and his eyes glance up at Sonny.

“What are you doing here?”

“Praying.”

“Okay…” The look upon Sonny’s face makes it seem as if he doesn’t believe the clear lie. Not that it stops him from stepping to the side so Rafael can move through the doors, “don’t let me stop you.”

Rafael doesn’t move, eying the church with a suspicion. “Do you want to get a drink?”

“I, uh,” he pauses, tearing a gaze from him to the night sky, “want to? Yeah sure.”

It’s unfair to ask knowing that Sonny will say yes, just as he did. It’s not as if he denies anything Rafael wants often. They spent many nights in his office working late hours while he’s being shadowed and studying for the bar, before this, before everything. Come to know the man isn’t as bad as he might have presented himself in the beginning with that curious choice of mustache. Not _entirely_ awful. A small part of him may even be able to admit that he does like him. Words he chooses not to say to his face for the reaction would be entirely too obnoxious for him to handle.

Sonny has proven himself to be reliable and knowledgable. He is usually right in any opinion he gives towards law and he is very much a good detective. Someone who snuck up on him when he wasn’t even paying attention. A valuable member, to both himself and the rest of the squad.

There’s an eerily silence that rests between the two men as he guides them to a bar a few blocks down the street. Not one he frequents all that often, but one that will get the job done. A drink, maybe _two_ in the state of Sonny. When they reach it Sonny holds the door open with a smile, borderlining on innocence, as if there is nothing wrong at all.

It’s curious.

He takes a seat at the bar and takes his jacket off, setting it on the empty stool next to him, Sonny occupying the one on the opposite side. His tie is already loosened a bit so he can feel like he can breathe without being suffocated. He’s good at hiding and compartmentalizing, sometimes both at the same time, but the case still did a number on him that he _needs_ a drink for.

“This isn’t the first scandal the church has had and it won’t be the last.” Rafael finally speaks as he sips at his scotch.

“I know.” Sonny replies, taking a sip of his beer he’s barely touching. “They’re supposed to be men of God. You don’t go to _that_. Not to kids, not to trafficked girls, not to anyone.”

“Not everyone abides as you do.”

It doesn’t take long before he’s ordering himself a scotch, letting his feelings be pushed down the surface. “Why’d you not go?”

He almost doesn’t want to answer. “The church and I have a complicated relationship.”

Sonny nods, taking a sip of the scotch, a face made at the change.

“Easy,” Rafael smiles, “ you don’t want a hangover tomorrow.”

“Maybe it’d feel better.”

It’s that part of Sonny that he doesn’t recognize and it feels too much like him. As if he doesn’t put a stop to it Sonny is going to end up this bitter, a little too controlled man that Rafael is. Not the bright man he is, the bright man that deserves more than he is. “It won’t. Your head will be hurting, you’ll be miserable, and when Liv comes back you’ll have to pretend you are happy to see her because all you can think about it how miserable you feel.”

He puts a smile on his face. “Better?”

“You don’t need to fake it for me, I understand.” More than Sonny knows.

Sonny only nods and continues to sip at his drink. The both do. Sonny orders a second one before Rafael even finishes his first one. It’s not so curious as he just hasn’t seen him drink so steadily, nor something that isn’t beer. Granted, most of their time spent together is work and not social. Even this doesn’t feel social. It feels like the case extends itself and he cannot leave him to be on his own.

Curious how that happens.

“Why did you really go to the church?” Sonny asks after the silence changes into something uncomfortable.

“We both know why.” He gives a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I want to hear it.”

“It’s unbecoming, detective.”

“Says the man buying _me_ drinks.”

“I had to make certain you were okay.” He rolls his eyes, downing the rest of his scotch, not wasting any time as he calls for another one. “I would not be a very good mentor otherwise.” Something much better than saying he’d actually grown to care for him.

“You’re the best mentor I’ve ever had.” It’s the first genuine thing he’s said all night.

A smile tugs at his lips. “You’re the best student I’ve had.”

“Only student.”

Rafael smirks. “I taught Eddie English when we were kids.” It counts.

“Eddie?”

“Keep drinking, Carisi.” The topic of his childhood is not one he wants to broach. Not ever, not with anyone. He barely speaks of it to Liv and only told Amaro because it felt relevant. He’s gone and the secrets of his childhood gone with him. Thankful, in a way. He was harsh in a way that Sonny is soft, caring. Even in the state it’s clear to see he cares about people other than himself. Supposes that is why he is good at his job.

Sonny frowns, mind running wild with possibilities of what can be so long.

“I knew him when we were kids.”

“And you taught him English.” Sonny cuts him off.

“I _am_ Cuban.” As if that’s meant to answer everything he could possibly question.

“You’re not very friendly. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine you as a kid. You just came out an adult sized man.” He lets out something of a giggle at that. True, raw amusement coming across his features.

“Then all my effort is worth it.”

“What was ADA Rafael Barba like as a kid?” The glass of half empty scotch meets the counter and he focuses intently on Rafael.

Rafael frowns now. “You haven’t unlocked that story yet.”

“That bad?”

There are happy memories, as few as they are. Over the years he’s found that he holds onto the bitter, dark things. The bullying, the abuse, the culture. He’s no gringo and he never will be. No matter how he fits in decently. There’s always a certain part of him that is on the outside, looking in. Even with Sonny there’s something. It’s not he does, no fault of his, just a feeling that Rafael is usually good at ignoring. Sometimes he’s not. “Drink.”

Sonny doesn’t argue and finishes his drink and there’s another round for the both of them. There’s casual conversation that mostly pertains to old cases. Something that is easy to speak about, keeping a certain peace between the two of them, making it so they don’t need to share as much about their personal lives as maybe is bubbling over the top of the surface. They’re friendly, not that friendly.

“I’m taking you home.” Rafael announces when they are both on the edge of about to drink too much. He puts some money on the bartop, a generous tip, before rolling his eyes at how Sonny does his best to stand, swaying a little too much, holding on very tightly to the bartop.

“I’m fine, Counselor.” The words slur just enough that he is definitely been drinking, but he does manage to find a way to put his jacket back on by himself. “I would have paid.”

“Come on, Carisi.” A dismissal, no explanation given.

The Uber takes them to Sonny’s apartment building, it being closer to the bar chosen of choice than his own apartment. He tells the driver to wait and he’ll be a minute. He’s paying the damn guy so he doesn’t think it’ll be an issue as he walks Sonny to the door of his apartment building. He could watch from the car and make sure he gets inside like a normal person, but he doesn’t.

“Barba, you don’t have to. I’m feeling more sober already.” His words are spoken slow as if to tell him they are the truth.

Rafael just rolls his eyes in response. “Just to the door so I know you’re inside. Then you can sleep in the hall floor and hope no one trips over you.”

“Ha, ha.”

He’s smiling and realizes with too much comfort that he’s actually enjoyed Sonny’s company. There wasn’t any work and even as he stands there is he not thinking of the cases that are piled up on his desk. Rather he is looking at Sonny and wondering about things that he should not be wondering, things he will not even admit to himself. Not when it concerns someone he works with. He tries to keep some boundaries and frankly, Sonny is _way_ too young.

“I wasn’t praying because of the case.” Sonny blurts. “Not _just_ because of the case.”

“You don’t need to tell me.” He almost takes a step back but he doesn’t, rather he almost waits for him to continue.

“I’m…” Sonny stops and turns to punch the code into the building. He doesn’t do it though, rather looking back at him. “I like men. I’m,” he pauses once more and turns back so he’s looking at Rafael. “I’m bisexual.” The words are not exactly confident but they aren’t shakey either. A mix between the two that conveys how serious he is about it

Rafael nods, a hint of a smile. “Feel better?” He knows what that is like and he wonders if that’s the first time he’s told anyone or if he simply wants him to know. The alcohol probably plays a factor but sometimes a little liquid courage is needed. Or maybe he is entirely comfortable with himself and feels the tension between the two. He doesn’t know and he’s not about to ruin the moment by asking.

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He smiles, as if everything has suddenly gotten brighter in the dead of night. “I really do.”

“Good.” Something he genuinely means. “Your secret is safe with me, Detective.”

“I’m not ashamed.”

There’s no judgment that passes Rafael, even as he isn’t certain if the words are true, certainly not with the knowledge of him praying for more than just the case. All he does wish is that it were easier. Not just for him, nor himself. Everyone. Everyone deserves to have it easier. A simple thought but one that felt important.

“I know.” The whispered words are barely audible. “But you’re a cop.”

Sonny frowns, face scrunching, before it finally _falls_.

“It’s not fair.” He straightens Sonny’s tie, barely understanding himself why he’s touching him at all. He’s not overly affectionate and even now, this isn’t affection. It’s him keeping himself busy, a feeling rising up within him, a feeling towards himself, towards Sonny. One he doesn’t want to grapple with but the alcohol isn’t letting him bury it. “I know. Bisexual Catholic Cuban men don’t exactly have the easiest of times.” He’s telling him to sympathize, even if he is certain he already knows. Doubts Sonny would have told him about himself otherwise. It’s not a secret, nor does he scream it from the rooftops. Only bothers when it’s relevant since people are not the most open minded. Still a few within the office he’s on polite conversation with, nothing more. “Not in the DA’s office, not in general.” He shrugs, letting go of Sonny’s tie, swallowing as he looks up at him. “Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Counselor.” Sonny says with a look on his face making it seem as if there is more he wants to say. Nothing further comes out as he turns and disappears within the apartment building, leaving Rafael standing there, alone in the darkness, collecting himself before going home himself.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr.](http://laurelsalexis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
